


Beating the Odds: Dominance

by jaythegreenling



Series: Beating the Odds Series [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Sexual Content, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythegreenling/pseuds/jaythegreenling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leliana comes home, she finds her lover to be needy and responsive. Deciding to take advantage of the willing witch, she soon presents her lover with something they have never tried before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beating the Odds: Dominance

„It’s ours for the night!”  
“What is, dear?” Morrigan merely lifted her eyebrows, her eyes still focused on the spell she was casting. ‘Twas annoying to always be disturbed so by the bard when making magic. Her golden eyes glimmered in the dark, brightened by her spell. Sweat formed on her forehead, and her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to levitate the heavy object.  
“Morr…”  
“Quiet.” Finally the gigantic statue lifted off the ground, shaking ever so slightly, but following the path Morrigan formed with her arms. Ascending the stairs together with her cargo, the witch placed the marble figure in the middle of the room, overlooking the foyer of the estate.

For a moment, she placed her hand on her eye, reveling in the coolness of the skin. It helped to calm her mind after such pointless exertion. An arm slipped around her waist, and her clammy body was pulled against tough leather and a murmuring bard.  
“The estate. The estate’s ours for the night…” Her eyes widened.  
“Whatever do you mean? Where is Hawke?” She knew the younger woman was rolling her eyes, she could practically feel it. Leliana possessed a curious mind; she was always asking questions, pondering things. But whenever Morrigan had a query, she became rather terse.

‘Twas part of their game, and albeit she would never admit to it under torture, the mage rather enjoyed when the redhead showed her sterner side. ‘Twas a form of power play she had not quite understood in the beginning, but over the years she had become rather addicted to the feeling of being dominated by the lithe rogue.  
Leliana loved her, this she knew and had known for a long time, and ever since she had confessed her love as well, their nightly activities had become less and less inhibited.

‘Twas this thought as well as the finger trailing her collar bone that sent shivers down her spine.  Although she loved the attention the bard gave her, she wanted to resist. She was sweating and mentally exhausted, her mana only returning slowly, as she currently had no means of refilling it.

“Hawke is fine. She said she’d spend the night. … Ah-ah-ah, shhhh. … No, I don’t know where. But since we’re talking about Hawke, it can only be the Hanged Man. Or… well. Bethany’s. Or maybe she’s at Merrill’s, who knows these days.” Morrigan was about to respond, but when sharp teeth dug into her neck, she stayed silent, willing her body not to sag into the rogue’s tender embrace. She had not seen the human for nearly a day, as the redhead had left in the middle of the night, running errands for the Champion of Kirkwall. However, her treacherous corporeal form had demanded attention ever since the bard had left their bedchambers. Before that, even. She had spent most of last night pleasuring the bard in all imaginable ways possible, yet the stubborn woman had refused to give her even the slightest help in finding release. So ‘twas no wonder that her body was craving for attention.

Now, with Leliana’s long awaited return, everything had changed and her body knew it, too. The warmth spreading beneath her skin was delicately distracting, as was the tongue playing with her earlobe. A moan escaped her lips, and her hands came to rest on the bard’s, pressing them into her harder.  
“Are you in a hurry, my lovely Witch of the Wilds?” Groaning, Morrigan turned around in strong arms, letting her head rest on an armor-covered shoulder.  
“’Tis your fault. My body longs for your touch. You knew ‘twould be so.”

Leliana chuckled rather childishly, obviously happy to be the cause of the mage’s discomfort. ‘Twas an annoying habit of hers, to push Morrigan as far as she could, leaving her wanting and wet. Begging. Morrigan bit into the only skin presented to her: a tender neck. She wanted this. She needed this. And she cared not for the bard’s juvenile games at the moment. If she wanted her to beg, she would have to work for it.

Soft moans filled the witch’s ears, and deft hands slipped beneath her flimsy robes, pinching and scratching pale skin.  
“Morrigan…” Abruptly, the witch let Leliana go, a twinkle in her eyes. Murmured complaints followed, and quick hands followed her every movement, trying to pull her back into a tight embrace. But the older woman easily sidestepped the clumsy attempts of the bard.  
“’Tis what you get for playing with the Witch of the Wilds, dear child.”  
“ _Morrigan…_ ” This time her name sounded like a threat, and the skin on Morrigan’s body responded to the sound of it rolling off Leliana’s tongue.

She walked backwards, towards Hawke’s bedchambers. If they had the estate to themselves, they might as well make themselves comfortable. After today, she did not care for a romp on the cold stone floor.  
“Oh you think you’re being smart, don’t you?”  Still laughing, Leliana followed her slowly, shedding her armor as she went. She dropped piece by piece on the floor, and Morrigan could not help but stare at every expanse of skin that was revealed. She knew the bard’s body by heart, but the younger woman knew just how to attract her attention anyway.

When her calves hit the bed, the witch gulped. By now the rogue wore nothing more than a slightly sweaty top, short pants and her greaves. Morrigan let out a shaky breath at the sight of the bard’s nipples straining against the fabric. The young rogue knew just how to make her long for more. Leliana’s strong hands started caressing her own body, over taut abs towards soft breasts. She gave them a squeeze, lightly at first, but harder the longer Morrigan stared. The witch could feel her lips going dry; she wanted to take those nipples into her mouth, suck on them gently and bite down hard. The determination she felt must have shown in her eyes, because the archer pushed her back all of a sudden, sending her flying.

She landed on her back with a soft whoosh as the satin sheets of the master bed welcomed her. The redhead stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at her with a wicked smile on her face.  
“You will listen to me, won’t you?” ‘Twas hardly uncommon for Leliana to say such a thing, for Morrigan knew she liked the confirmation of the mage’s subservience.  This meant that what was about to follow would be yet another one of their playful nights. She licked her lips in anticipation, because judging by the look on Leliana’s face, she would get more than a fair share of climaxes tonight, more than making up for last night’s missed opportunities.

“Undress.” Leliana’s voice had taken on an air of dominance, clearly laced with desire. Therefore the witch was quick to follow her order, getting rid of her sleeveless top and her sleeve first.  
The half-naked woman in front of her did nothing to conceal her staring while the mage undressed; no, she even made a show of it. She licked her lips provokingly when the witch removed her bra; and when Morrigan slipped out of her skirt-and-pants combination, the redhead growled wantonly.

Finally she was naked, presenting her pale body to the rogue’s lust-filled gaze. Now all she had to do was wait. The bard’s patience was running thin tonight, she could tell. It wouldn’t take long until Leliana succumbed to the need inside of her. Trying to look nonchalant, Morrigan inspected the other woman’s body through her lowered lashes, imagining her lips on every freckle she could see. ‘Twas hard to make out, but she was almost certain that the bard’s breathing had labored somewhat, for the delicately muscled chest barely moved when the tall woman breathed in.

So distracted was she by the archer’s body, that she only now noticed blue eyes watching her. The tenderness usually inhabiting those eyes seemed to dissipate more and more the longer the sister of the Chantry stood and stared.

Morrigan could tell that Leliana was battling herself, trying to resist the urge to take her forcefully. There had been rare occasions when the bard had done exactly that, pushing the smaller woman down, ravishing her, forcing orgasm upon orgasm out of her until the bard had collapsed weakly, cradling Morrigan in her arms.

More often than not the bard had apologized afterwards, a nuisance she had yet to get rid of. ‘Twas true, she did enjoy the tender lovemaking they shared regularly. The slow movements and loving kisses. But whenever the younger woman came back from a particularly unpleasant quest, there was always a chance that she might ignore the mage’s mock annoyance and take her right where she stood. Morrigan loved those times, and she knew the bard was aware of that. But Leliana was a complicated woman, and so, whenever she lost control like that, she apologized. The Witch of the Wilds knew why. Their rough encounters were something the rogue secretly was ashamed of. ‘Twas the thought of doing something forbidden, something scandalous, that made Leliana give into her hidden nature.

But that was also the reason for her shame afterwards. Morrigan did not know why she would be ashamed, but she knew she needed Leliana to stop thinking like that. As a grown woman she knew that everything they did was perfectly acceptable as long as they both wanted and enjoyed it.

‘Twas with this thought in mind that she decided to make her need for being dominated more obvious. Slowly, aware that Leliana’s blue orbs followed her every movement, she spread her legs. The archer gulped visibly.

This would be easier than expected. Leliana might have been the driving force behind it all, but the witch knew that the human woman would need a nudge tonight. She thoroughly enjoyed giving Leliana the impression that she was in control –which she was, but at the same time she did not want to let go of the hold she had over the redhead.

In the meantime, Leliana’s mouth was watering, she could tell. Slender nostrils flared, and a flicker of annoyance crossed the rogue’s face. Her hungry eyes came to rest between Morrigan’s thighs, and her fingers flexed just slightly, giving away her desire.  
“Will you be joining me, Sister Nightingale?” Calling Leliana by her alias had the anticipated effect. Blue eyes flared with lust, and then the mage’s ankles were pulled towards the foot of the bed in a haste. Morrigan resisted the urge to laugh as her slender body was swiftly covered by a sinewy one; greaves scraping on her calves as her legs were spread apart even more.

Leliana’s face was close to hers, their breaths mingling. The way the rogue was kneeling between her legs was more than arousing, Morrigan had to admit that. Strong thighs were keeping hers apart, and nimble fingers seemed to cover every single spot on her body. Moans erupted from her lips, and her hands instinctively went up to grab a hold of flowing red hair.  
“Don’t!”

All of a sudden, she was lying flat on her face, a hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her down as she struggled against the unexpected change in position.  
“You. Will. Not. Move.” To emphasize her point, the bard’s hand slipped between her legs, dipping into the velvet heat they found there. A shiver ran down Morrigan’s spine. ‘Twas hard to concentrate with callused fingers stroking her wetness. She was tempted to stay silent, hoping the younger woman would continue her ministrations.

But they came to a halt.  
“I will… not move.” Fingers dipped deeper, pushing between her folds, barely entering her. The Witch of the Wilds whimpered.  
“Good.” The bard sounded almost gleeful when she got off the bed, leaving Morrigan in the middle of it, alone and aching with need. Her center was throbbing, her skin hypersensitive and alert, waiting for Leliana’s touch. She could hear the rogue move around the room, but she could not see her in her current position. And as she had promised not to move, she would have to wait for the woman to come back and release her of this uncertainty.

“You know… I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now.” Warm hands came to rest on her ankles once again, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. Her knees hit the ground, and she wondered about what the bard was planning. Leliana’s hands travelled up her body, firm touches sending lightning bolts straight to her center, and she had to resist the urge to squirm in the redhead’s hands.  
“Stand up.” Stretching her legs, Morrigan stayed bent over the bed, her arms supporting her upper body, thus presenting the rogue a perfect behind. Spreading her legs just slightly, she offered herself to the rogue.

A slap echoed through the room. The witch gasped in surprise, but when the pain ebbed away, she moved again, knowing she was provoking the bard to repeat her gesture.

Again she felt a hand slap her behind, but this time she was prepared. Her moan reverberated in her chest as she tried to hide the fact that she loved what Leliana did to her. Another wiggle of her hips, another slap. Her skin tingled pleasantly, and she knew that the cheek the archer was hitting would be bright red in a moment. She did not care, however. So she moved again, spreading her legs as wide as she dared.

No slap followed. Disappointment was not something she could mask well, so when nothing came after a few moments, her body went from anticipating stiffness into a more relaxed state. And that was when it happened. A flat hand smacked her wet mound, just hard enough to make her knees go weak.

Another whimper escaped full lips, and Morrigan made sure to collect herself as fast she could, standing back up, presenting herself again.  
“Will you stop moving now?” She wanted to. She needed to listen, or she would never get even close to her release. But her behind was on fire, and she loved it. Torn between what she needed and what she wanted, the witch hesitated just long enough to annoy the bard.  
“WILL YOU?” A hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and she followed the movement, until her body was pressed tightly against the taller woman’s, their faces almost touching.

Blue eyes bored into golden ones, and for a moment, the world seemed to dissipate. This was where she belonged. ‘Twas mind boggling, really, but she felt no need to push the other woman away anymore. In the beginning of their relationship, she had done so frequently. But that had been years ago. By now she knew that she did not have to fear love. Love was not fleeting. Love did hold meaning. Her logic dictated that she agree with the rhetorical question, but her heart demanded otherwise.

The kiss she gave Leliana was short and hurried, too afraid was she that the quick rogue would move away or stop her somehow.

To her surprise, the lips she was covering with hers started moving, kissing her back, welcoming her tongue despite the awkward position their bodies were in. But that moment didn’t last long. Of course she was pushed back, her lips swollen and red, her breath catching in her throat.  
“No.” Her lover sounded stern, but there was a smile at the corners of her lips, and Morrigan instantly resumed her bent over position, her body screaming for release more loudly now.

“So there is a way to tame a Witch of the Wilds? I must remember that.” Strong hands roamed over her body again, tracing the shape of her spine, cupping her behind, squeezing hard. Then the bard bent over her, her nipples scraping over Morrigan’s sensitive skin, forcing her inner muscles to contract in response.

Only now did she realize that at some point the rogue must have gotten rid of her top. For a moment the mage wondered whether the pants were also gone, but teeth digging into her shoulders soon took her mind off such pointless ponderings. Her body reacted instantly by pressing back into the warm figure on top of her. Nails scratched her skin in response, and it was all she could do to hold onto the satin sheets in her hands, deliberately keeping them away from the bard.

Soft nips and bites marked her shoulders and back, and moaning soon filled the otherwise silent room. Ages seemed to pass in which nothing happened but the slow and magnificent torture the rogue was putting her through. Finally lips caressed her behind, and her legs wanted to spread wide, inviting the gentle tongue inside her. The rogue however did not seem to be at all impressed by her soaking center and instead stayed focused on kissing her cheeks, one after the other, paying careful attention to the reddened handprint on one side.

Whimpers and moans came easily by now, and the fact that she had not pleasured herself today despite her apparent need did not help matters. Her legs were shaking, and all she wanted was to lie down and bury the bard’s head between her thighs. ‘Twould not take her long, should the bard choose to be merciful and take that approach. A soft hum started building up in her chest as she thought about the nimble tongue between her legs. A smile spread over her face, and for a moment she was distracted, not noticing the shift in position behind her.

‘Twas only when a tongue swiped over her folds that she came back to the present, yelping in surprise and pleasure. Leliana used one hand to spread her legs wider, and Morrigan was quick to respond. The bard’s tongue on her folds sent her head reeling, standing proved harder and harder, and the more insistent the muscle pressed against her opening, the more she wanted to fall down and let go of everything. Pleasure was waiting for her just around the corner, she could feel it approaching, yet she was not nearly close enough.

When the rogue started murmuring against the nub above her opening, Morrigan lost control. Her arms gave in and she came to rest on her elbows, her position even more unnatural now, her center even more exposed. The mage’s body was trembling, trying to anticipate the bard’s next move so she would not be overwhelmed by it. But to no avail. When a tongue pushed into her opening forcefully, Morrigan cried out. She would not be able to take this much longer. Soon her walls would contract and release would finally wash over her. She was close now, with the rogue’s chin rubbing against the bundle of nerves, her tongue filling her, vocal chords sending vibrations through her center…

And then it all stopped.  
“No! No, no no! Don’t you dare, you selfish human!” Even bent over, her whole being exposed, she knew she was to be feared.

But not by the bard.

“You will get back up.” Morrigan stared at the looming figure in front of her in defiance, and then she was unceremoniously pulled back up from the floor, where she had dropped mere moments ago out of exasperation and exhaustion. ‘Twas then that she noticed it. Indeed, the bard had undressed herself earlier. Top and pants were gone, only the greaves remained. The greaves…

And a harness. A black wooden phallus was protruding from Leliana’s hips, seemingly begging her to bend over again. The mage gulped. Her need came rushing back to her like a wave at the beach. She stared hungrily, not caring what her lover might think. Suddenly the anger she had felt vanished and was replaced by a relentless throbbing between her legs. Her throat was dry, and she was only too aware of the fact that she was still staring.

“Do you like what you see, then?”  
“I…” ‘Twas hard to form words, and Morrigan cursed her inability to stay focused at the sight of that _thing_.  
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.” Still transfixed by the black shaft, she hardly noticed the bard’s hands upon her, guiding her back toward the bed.  
“Bend down.” Blue eyes met green for a moment, and she knew Leliana was trying to ascertain whether the witch was alright with this new development. She gave the slightest of nods, biting her lip instinctively. This would be unlike anything they had ever done, and Morrigan could hardly wait. Her center was soaking wet already, all the rogue would have to do was push in. A shudder ran down her back as she thought about that. Groaning, she bent down again, positioning her hands wider apart this time, hoping that would help her keep her balance.

“You look magnificent.” Leliana’s voice was unusually husky, her need as obvious as Morrigan’s. She closed her eyes, listening for the slightest indication of what the bard would be doing. A finger slipped between her folds, spreading her wetness even more. She wished she could tell her that she did not care for such tenderness now; all she wanted was to be taken. Roughly.

Instead of voicing her desire, she pushed back against what she hoped was the bard’s crotch. A surprised sound could be heard, and then the slightly cold head of the phallus was placed at her entrance, unmoving.  
“Pleasure yourself on me.” She did not have to be told twice. Moving slowly at first, she impaled herself on the shaft, which was significantly longer than Leliana’s fingers, but not unpleasantly so. Her movements became more confident, and she could feel the bard’s hands coming to rest on her hips, gently guiding her movements whenever she went too far away.

Thrust followed thrust followed thrust. Soon she started panting, the penetration and position she was forced to keep physically straining. But she did not want to stop, so she kept going, pushing harder, taking in everything Leliana had to give.

Panting turned into ragged breathing, and soon she was unable to do anything other than keep breathing. That was when Leliana stopped her movements and pushed her onto the bed. Thankful and excited she followed willingly, her face dropping into the sheets, her behind still high in the air. But this time she was on her knees, and it seemed like the archer was willing to do the work herself this time.

Over her shoulder she watched the bard guide the shaft into her again, setting up a steady rhythm when she realized that Morrigan enjoyed the hard thrusts that pressed her face into the mattress forcefully.

Her lover started moaning after a while, her movements getting sluggish. The rogue was close.  
“Please… please let me look at you.” Morrigan rarely asked for things once Leliana had established her dominance, but now, with the bard’s hands busy on her back and her phallus plunging into her, she wanted to look her in the eyes as she came apart. She wanted to see the rogue lose control.

The thrusts kept coming, however, more insistent than ever, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. ‘Twas almost too much. Her whole body was on fire, and she could feel the sparks pressing towards the surface, as they always did when things got so out of hand. A whimper could be heard behind her, when the magic in her body touched the sister of the Chantry for the first time.  
“Fine… Have it your way, you foolish witch.” Leliana pushed her down, so her legs folded neatly against her front. ‘Twas in this position that she turned her around, immediately continuing with her thrusts.

“I…” Morrigan enjoyed watching the bard’s face contort, her eyes closing in pleasure, her fingers digging into the mage’s knees, willing her body to hold on just a moment longer. But she couldn’t. A scream filled the moonlit room, one of the most wonderful things Morrigan had ever heard. Her lover sagged against her, breathing heavily, trying to focus and catch her breath. A sweaty forehead rested against her clavicle; Leliana’s heavy breathing sending shivers over her wet skin. Her shaking hands came to rest upon the flowing red head of her lover, and she let her fingers tangle in the magnificent mass.

This was perfection. If only the bard would not leave her on the brink of orgasm…  
“I know what you’re thinking. Stop that.” A smile spread over her face and she could feel her cheeks reddening. None other than the bard could make her do so.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” The redhead chuckled, slightly moving her hips. Morrigan gasped, her walls contracting involuntarily when she felt the shaft move inside of her. She thought of all the ways the archer could make her come undone and she could not help but hold on tighter to the woman, feeling the fast heartbeat against her own.

“Just you wait.”


End file.
